“Hey, but they wadna daur come back,” cried Tavish.
“I don’t know, Tavvy. Anyhow, we’ll have the spar where they can’t get it. Where shall we put it?”
“She’d better pit it inside ta castle,” said Tavish.
“Well, we’ll all help you carry it. You’ll help, Max?”
“Oh yes, I’ll help,” replied Max, offering the potato to Kenneth. “Do you want to throw this at any one else?”
“Eh? No. Yes, I do. I’ll keep it for the bailiffs. I say, though, this is a rum game. Those people can’t have any right to come like that.”
“I don’t know for certain,” said Max; “but I’m afraid they have—if—”
He stopped short, for Kenneth flushed up.
“Oh, come, Maxy, that’s too bad. Don’t insult my father by saying things in that underhanded way. My father doesn’t owe money, I’m sure.”
Max felt uncomfortable, for he had an undefined feeling that there was something very wrong, but it was all misty and confused.